Dancing Boy
by purpleatheist
Summary: From the movie Billy Elliot - Michael gets what he's wanted for years. SLASH, Michael/Billy. Consider yourself warned.


Title: Dancing Boy  
Author: purpleatheist (cobbsc@ncssm.edu)  
Rating: R  
Fandom: Billy Elliot  
Keywords/Pairing: SLASH (Billy/Michael), underage (in America) drinking  
Author's Notes: I wrote this right after I saw the movie in the theater. No Beta, all mistakes herein are mine alone. Criticize me all you like, it'll help me improve. Flames welcome, I need the entertainment.  
  
  
"Excuse me, son, do you some help getting somewhere?" Michael looked up, startled, to see a kindly-looking older lady peering at him.  
  
"Oh, no, thank you. I've found where it is I'm going." The lady returned his smile and moved along in the bustle of people. Michael stayed where he was, however. He wiped one sweaty palm on his jeans, then switched his duffle bag to his left hand and wiped the right one. He wasn't sure why exactly he was so nervous. It was Billy! Billy, who'd smiled and accepted him without a second thought. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and followed the directions written there. He hadn't seen Billy Elliot in four years, not since he left for the Royal Ballet School, leaving Michael with a goodbye and a kiss. But he'd gotten the letter a month ago, written back and said he'd come visit. And here he was. He realized he'd reached his destination and stood dazed, much as he had after getting off the bus.  
  
"Michael! Michael, over here!" He turned to see Billy jogging towards him, grinning madly. The other boy embraced him and kept a grip on his elbow as he continued chattering. "It's so good to see you again! I'm glad you came. I've got nothing to do all weekend, so we can do whatever you'd like. Are you all right?"  
  
Actually, Michael was just absorbing the warmth of the touch and of hearing Billy's voice again. "I suppose I'm just a bit tired from the trip. But I'll be all right. How've you been? How's the dancing?"  
  
Billy smiled again. "It's great. Everything's great. C'mon, I'll take you back to my room to get settled."  
  
  
  
They walked in, nearly running into another boy carrying bags and leaving. "Oh, Michael, this is my roommate Charles. He's going home for the weekend, so he's letting you stay in his bed."  
  
"Thank you," Michael said, taking in the perfect features, blond hair, and blue eyes.   
  
"Don't bother checking him out," Billy informed him cheerfully. "He's straight."  
  
Charles shrugged. "The less competition for girls, the better. See you Sunday night, Billy. Nice meeting you Michael."  
  
They said goodbye and shut the door. "So tell me, Billy, you aren't one of the straight ones, are you?"  
  
"Whatever would give you that idea?" A smile teased the corners of Billy's mouth.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. I'm sorry, Billy, forget I said anything. It's not important."  
  
"I think it might be." Billy looked directly into his eyes. "It is, isn't it?"  
  
"It's just so lonely. I've got no other friends, Billy."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave you, but I had to, Michael, you do understand."  
  
"Of course. Doesn't make it easier."  
  
"If it helps, you were right. I'm not one of the straight ones."  
  
Michael shrugged. "If it helps," Billy added quietly, "I think you're cute."  
  
He nearly laughed. "Cute, huh?"  
  
The smile returned to Billy's lips. "Yeah. Cute." Still smiling, Billy pulled Michael's thin frame closer to his athletic one. Slowly, ever so slowly, their lips brushed, and then touched again, deep and long-lasting. They broke with the sound of the door opening.  
  
"Billy, do you know where my-" Charles broke off. "Oh…I'm sorry. Billy, you didn't tell me he was that kind of friend."  
  
"He wasn't."  
  
Charles shrugged, and then looked at Michael. "Well, then you've succeeded where all the others have failed. And believe me, they've tried." He grabbed whatever it was he'd forgotten and left again.  
  
"Why have the others failed, Billy?"  
  
"I suppose it's because my head was there but my heart was always with someone else."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, Michael. Really. Now, c'mere." Michael didn't hesitate. Their kisses grew more and more intense, and were soon insufficient.  
  
"Billy, have you ever done this before?"  
  
"To an extent. You?"  
  
"Yes. I think you're wearing too many clothes." Billy wordlessly slipped out of jeans and shirt. Michael followed suit. They kissed again, bare skin on bare skin this time. Michael's hand lazily trailed down Billy's tight stomach until he reached the elastic waist of his undergarments. Billy gave him permission to continue and he did, slipping his hand inside to tease. Billy started to reciprocate, but Michael stopped him. "Nope. Me first." He slipped Billy's underwear off and dropped to his knees, smiling slyly.  
  
  
  
A while later, Michael lay sprawled on the floor, his head in Billy's lap, while the other boy idly played with his hair. They were both partially clothed again, and silent. There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Billy called.  
  
"Martin."  
  
"Come in." Michael started to sit up, but Billy pulled him back down to where he was as the other boy entered.  
  
"Hi, Billy. Who's this?" He ran an appraising eye down Michael's bare chest.  
  
"This is Michael. Michael, Martin."  
  
"Nice to meet you."  
  
"Yeah, you too. Billy, I thought you were straight."  
  
"What gave you that idea?"  
  
"One of the girls - Lisa - said that you…"  
  
"Bullshit," Billy replied, kissing Michael as he tried to sit up again, this time succeeding. "So, what's up?"  
  
"Well, my brother's in town. He wants to see the town. You know, go to some pubs and the like. Up for drinking tonight?"  
  
"How about it, Michael?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
"Just a warning, boys. Some of the violent ones are out Friday nights. Better be straight unless we're in one of our bars."  
  
"Sure, Martin. We'll meet you out front in two hours. Ok?"  
  
"Yeah. See you."  
  
"The violent ones?" Michael questioned.  
  
"You know. The ones that prowl around drunk looking for fags to beat up or kill."  
  
"Oh," Michael said softly. "Ok, then. Well, what shall we do for two hours?"  
  
Billy grinned at him. "I have some ideas."  
  
  
  
Two hours later, they gathered outside. "Michael, this is Rod and Jack, plus Martin you already met, and his brother Lee. Guys, this is Michael, my best friend from home."  
  
Michael nodded and smiled, then said, "Are we ready to go?"  
  
  
  
  
Late that night, all six teenage boys staggered down their hall, trying to be quiet, which was very difficult seeing as all were extremely drunk. Michael and Billy were having a more difficult time, as they were attempting to kiss and walk at the same time while drunk. Their three rooms were grouped together, and they stopped in the middle of the hall in front of their doors. "Well, good night, I guess," Martin said, the most sober of the bunch.   
  
"I'm not tired yet," Jack giggled. "I'm bored. Rod, want to go have sex?"  
  
The red-haired boy shrugged. "Sure. I've been trying to get you to ask me that for months." Rod and Jack headed off towards their room when someone down the hall cleared their throat. The six of them looked up to see their hall supervisor looking disapprovingly at them. They stood still and tried not to laugh or sway while he began to lecture them on noise late at night. The boys knew from experience that he could go on for hours, but luckily the hall supervisor of one of the younger boys' halls was mysteriously spending the night in his room and pulled him back in. They all made it into their rooms safely, taking care to lock the doors behind them. Billy and Michael got into bed and were quiet for a moment before Billy spoke.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You…don't have to sleep over there."  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
"Oh yes. Cold and lonely. You better come over here."  
  
"I'm kind of tired."  
  
"Me too. Just sleep. I want you to sleep next to me."  
  
Michael slid out of bed and climbed in next to his friend. Billy sighed happily, and the two were soon asleep in each other's arms.   
  
  
  
Michael awoke the next morning in a very unfamiliar position. His head was pounding from their activities the previous night, but he was content like he hadn't been since he was a young child. Billy stirred next to him, and rolled over to prop is head in his hand for a better view of Michael. "Good morning."  
  
"Morning."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"11:15."  
  
Billy grimaced and collapsed back down. "I have class at noon. Two hours. You can stay here and sleep if you'd like."  
  
"Can I watch?"  
  
"Of course. I doubt you'll like it, though. Practice can get pretty mundane."  
  
  
"You'll be there, won't you? I won't be bored." Michael sat up to kiss the other boy. "Go on, then. Shower, take some aspirin, and eat. You'll feel better."  
  
"Sounds like you're awfully familiar with these kind of mornings," joked Billy.  
  
"A little too familiar," Michael replied darkly. "But it's ok. Don't worry about it. Go get ready." Billy left his room for the hall bathroom to shower, and Michael collapsed back on the bed, thinking. I slept with Billy. I had sex with Billy. Fuckin' hell, I'm falling in love with the boy! Of course, there is a problem. He lives here. I don't. Billy lived in gay-boy heaven, a ballet school. The gay community of Michael's town seemed to be wherever Michael happened to be. It didn't seem that a long distance relationship was an option. He finally told himself to enjoy the weekend and worry about it later. He dozed until Billy came back in the room, with damp hair and just a towel around his waist. He dropped the towel and began to dress for his class, grinning at Michael's eyes upon him.   
  
"Come on, then, you lazy bastard. Are you going to come watch or what?" Billy said good naturedly.  
  
Michael sighed dramatically and reluctantly slid out of bed, dressing as well. Billy pulled him over for a kiss, which Michael accepted, but Billy sensed that something was wrong. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh, Billy, why are you doing this to me?"  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Just…this. How long will it be before I see you again?"  
  
"What do you mean? You come visit me when you can, and I'll see you on holidays and such."  
  
"You really think so? You really think we can make this work?"  
  
"Well, we can try. Come on, you're going to make me late." Billy grabbed his hand to pull him along, but Michael pulled back, bringing his boyfriend back into a deep kiss.   
  
"I love you, you crazy bastard," he muttered before following Billy out into the hallway.  
  
  
10 YEARS LATER  
  
  
"Oh, sorry."  
  
Michael turned to the voice, startled to see a very familiar face. "Oh, it's all right, Tony, it's me Michael." He smiled at Tony's surprised look in return. He knew he was flaming. Before Billy's brother could reply, though, the ballet was underway. Michael faced forward to watch the man on the stage dance, his steps picture perfect. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Michael was entranced. When final bows finally came, the star stepped forward, blowing a kiss at the corner of the stands he knew was reserved for his family. "Yeah, I still love you, you crazy bastard," he muttered.   
  
Beside him, Tony turned to look at Michael, a strange look in his eyes. Michael gave him a half smile and shrug. "Ten years."  
  
Smiling back, Tony leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I knew it. Dancing boy, indeed."  
  
"He certainly is," was the quiet reply.  
  



End file.
